


Here, There Is No Golden Ball

by Halfblood_Fiend



Series: Star Trek 2020 Filled Bingos [1]
Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: First Contact, Kirk is so smart but he is also so so stupid, M/M, Pining, Uhura and Sulu in voice only
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2020-09-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:07:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26228407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Halfblood_Fiend/pseuds/Halfblood_Fiend
Summary: A First Contact with a hyper-telekinetic race called the Haijinn turns quickly from routine to devastating when Spock has an un-frog-ettable run-in with one of the race’s priests. Captain Kirk, with the begrudging help of Bones, has to find a way to turn Spock back or doom him to a long and des-pond-ent life.
Relationships: James T. Kirk & Spock
Series: Star Trek 2020 Filled Bingos [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1904971
Comments: 3
Kudos: 9
Collections: Star Trek Bingo Summer 2020





	Here, There Is No Golden Ball

**Author's Note:**

> For the Star Trek Bingo 2020:  
> Bingo 1, Vertical Prompt 1/ Bingo 2, Horizontal Prompt 4
> 
> Transformation

_“Captain’s Log: Stardate 4846.1. We have encountered a new post-warp civilization on the outer reaches of Federation space. Xenosociologists have been monitoring this planet’s rapid technological march and were pleased to ask the Enterprise to be their Federation liaison. As part of our routine First Contact procedure, we have invited a handful of delegates to break bread with us up here on the Enterprise. They are a fascinating people on paper, but their unique telepathic and telekinetic abilities far surpass my own lofty expectations. On the surface, they seem able to conjure matter out of thin air. While basic laws of physics say this is impossible, it is still a wonder to behold. If I believed in such things, I could almost describe it as… well, like magic. Luckily, the Haijinn’s are just as fascinated with our own technological advances, but for a far different reason…”_

* * *

The High Priest Mailak blinked his large, bulbous milky blue iris-less eyes at the control panels in the Engineering Room. His small head on his long, spindly neck swayed side to side, reminding Kirk a bit of an ostrich from Earth. With the large, but squat body hidden under the many folds of his robes, the similarities were striking. All the High Priest and his people were missing, Kirk thought, were the long legs.

“And you have managed to build all of this on your own? With your hands?” Mailak inquired in a gravelly dialect punctuated by clicks emanating from the back of his throat and deep within his chest.

Scotty waited until the communicator in Kirk’s hand had translated Mailak’s sentence to Standard before he answered, “Well, not by meself, personally, but, aye. Other Human Beings built the Enterprise with their own hands and tools. And maybe a service droid or two, but ship buildin’ is mostly a work of the people.”

A pause while the communicator translated back into Haijann, and then Mailak and his entourage emitted a high-pitched series of clicks that Kirk felt fairly confident interpreting as “oohing and ahhing.” He smiled. “Scotty is my Chief Engineer, and it’s his job to see that I never lose the total functionality of my ship. He keeps the _Enterprise_ running in top shape.”

Scotty bit his lip and clasped his hands behind his back. “If yeh don’ mind me askin’, Your Excellency, sir, how do _you_ make your ships, if not by your hands?”

Mailak’s wide, flat mouth and delicate, thin lips parted in a near grimace. Kirk wondered if he was trying to mimic a Human smile or if the Haijinn normally did that. The first possibility was somewhat endearing; the latter would take some getting used to. “We envision the creation and it becomes so.”

Blinking, Scotty cocked his head at the High Priest before turning to Kirk. “Is that communicator warkin’, Captain?”

Not all his senior staff had a chance to look at the dossier, apparently. Kirk decided to give Scotty a break— _this time._ Smiling warmly, he answered, “I assure you, Scotty, it is.”

Mailak looked between them both and then, bobbing his head in such a way that Kirk wondered if there was a body language component to their language, said, “For such a large object as a space-faring vessel, the _oiimaige_ takes many highly tuned minds working in conjunction for long stretches of time. But for my people, anything we can imagine, we can create. It is our unique gift, our connection to the _Oiim_. Hold out your hand and observe.”

Even as he did as he was told, Scotty glanced at Kirk and said, “Now I _know_ that thing’s busted.”

“Not everything has a perfect translation all of the time,” Kirk reminded him gently as Mailak closed his eyes and concentrated.

The ship-wide intercom chirped from over on the wall and a voice rang out from it. “First Officer Spock, to Captain Kirk.”

Mailak’s eye’s fluttered closed as he focused, and Kirk decided that Scotty would live for a few moments without the Universal Translator. He strode towards the intercom and pressed the switch. “Kirk here. Spock, what is it?”

“Captain, we will most likely be unable to rendezvous with you in the briefing room at the appointed time.”

“Why the delay, Mr. Spock? We are nearly finished showing His Excellency, The High Priest our Engineering Room. That should have been plenty of time for you and Her Eminence.”

“Indeed, Captain. However, Her Eminence, the Southern Priest, is quite enthralled with the ship’s library computer. She requests that she should be granted more time for study.”

Well, that certainly rubbed Kirk the wrong way. Glancing back at Mailak and Scotty, he spoke in a low voice and hoped the Haijinn’s hearing wasn't extremely good. “I don't think I have to impress upon you, Mr. Spock, the danger of—”

“Quite right, Captain,” Spock's voice cut him off in an equally low tone. “I already took the liberty of locking her out of the more strategic data regarding the Federation. Her interest does appear to be genuinely curious, but it seemed prudent not to take chances. At present, she is studying Terran folklore.”

Both the relief of the stress in his shoulders and the image of a Haijinn reading things like Paul Bunyan made Kirk smile. “What kind of folklore?”

“Fairy tales, Captain.”

Ah, so stories like Rapunzel. Even better.

“Well, carry on, Mr. Spock, and let me know if anything else arises. I'm sure we can entertain the High Priest for another hour or so.”

“Thank you, Captain. I believe Her Eminence will be most pleased. Spock out.”

Kirk flipped the switch on the wall-mounted comm panel and wondered which part of the ship that Mailak and his Entourage might like to see next. The Rec Room, perhaps? That might be diverting enough. Or maybe even a holodeck? Or—

“Captain!” Mr. Scott's excited shout drew Kirk's attention “Would you look at this!? It's like nothing I've ever seen before! I cannae even believe it!” In his outstretched hands was a clear flower that was unfamiliar to Kirk. He decided that it must be something native to the planet below. It was beautiful and dazzling, catching the light and throwing rainbow arcs across the bulkhead.

Mailak shook his head. “A pale comparison,” he sighed, “but the _oiimaige_ has its limits. We cannot create living things by thought alone. It defies nature, and so does not allow for us to do it as we are living creatures ourselves. The _Oiim_ , however… it is the Great Creator, and has made everything we know.”

Kirk nodded, another smile gracing his face. The Haijinn culture must be a fascinating one. What kinds of creation myths did a people who had the power to create things themselves devise to make sense of their universe? He made a note to inform Marlena and ask if she had ever heard anything else about the Haijinn from her contacts back on Earth.

“Real or not, Your Excellency,” Scotty replied with a laugh, “it’s all amazin’ to me!” He held up the flower and turned it in his fingers so that more colors bounced off into boundless arcs.

“Yes, well, if Your Excellency is ready, we can move on with our tour. There are other parts of our ship that you might find—ah—fascinating.”

Look at him, he was starting to sound like Spock.

“Certainly, Captain, though it was our belief that we would soon sit to discuss the merits of trade with your Federation.”

Kirk nodded. “In good time. Mr. Spock had just informed me that Her Emminence, the Southern Priest requested more time in our library. I am nothing if not an accommodating host. We have more to share if you wish to see it.”

Mailak made more high-pitched clicks, his neck swaying forwards and backwards. “Ah, that girl. Always so eager for knowledge. I do hope you will not find it tiresome, Captain Kirk.”

“Not at all, Your Excellency. It’s certainly no trouble.”

* * *

An hour later and Kirk, along with Mailak and his people were gathered in Briefing Room Two, with no sign of Spock and the Southern Priest. He seated Mailak and his most important attendants and served everyone replicated refreshments (that the Haijinns all found rather amusing) but nearly twenty minutes later, there was still no sign of his first officer, nor any word from him at all. The unusual behavior from Spock was making Kirk as anxious as he was getting cross.

Mialak blinked his large eyes at Kirk and swayed his head. “You must not be so angry, Captain. This is just like Eimmeel. She can hardly be torn from her studies. It’s what makes her such a serviceable chronicler and devotee to _Oiim_.”

Kirk made a mental note to add ‘emotional telepathy’ to the list of the Haijinn’s already formidable range of traits. But maybe, he was just being obvious, with his knee bouncing and his hand cupping his chin as he leaned on the table. He quit all these actions and sat up with a shake of his head. “It’s not like Commander Spock to be so late. My first officer is also stubborn, Your Excellency, so I’m sure he and Her Emminence would have figured something out by now.”

And Spock hadn’t even comm-ed him… It was highly unusual.

“Or, Captain, they are locked together in a battle of wills and we will be here all day if we wait for them to arrive.” Mailak did his strange impersonation of a smile but Kirk felt far from better.

Kirk swore that the reprimand Commander Spock was going to receive from him would be legendary…

He reached forward and flipped the switch for the intercom laid into the meeting table. “Kirk to Spock.” His voice sounded brusque, even to him. “Commander Spock, _come in_.”

But the line remained dead. There was no answer from any comm anywhere on the ship.

Kirk pressed a button on the interface that linked him to the bridge directly. “Uhura, is there any problem with the ship’s intercom systems?”

He knew that there wasn’t, but Kirk wanted a record of his attempt at troubleshooting before he disciplined Spock.

Lieutenant Uhura’s voice came in over the speaker, confident and clear, “No, sir. No communications malfunctions of any kind.”

So, Spock was purposefully ignoring him then. Just perfect. “Thank you, Lieutenant, that’s all. Sulu, find Commander Spock using a ship-wide scan. Then connect me a direct line to him.”

Both Uhura and Sulu answered with sharp, “Yes, sir”s.

Kirk’s fingers drummed on the table. In all the first contacts that they had overseen together, all of their separately given tours, Spock had never been so…thoughtless. Spock, who arrived twenty minutes early for every shift, suddenly late to a meeting without any warning? It didn’t add up. And something in Kirk’s gut was making him uncomfortable. A bad feeling. Bones might have agreed with him, but Spock would have reminded him that his feelings had no influence on the possible outcome of events. They couldn’t tell him one thing or another. Spock would remind him that Kirk couldn’t make any assumptions without all the facts. And the only fact that he had was that his First Officer had not appeared when he was supposed to, and _that_ was out-of-character.

“Captain, we really can proceed. Eimmeel’s presence here as record-keeper was merely a precautionary measure. There is nothing she knows that I do not.”

Kirk listened but didn’t respond—How to explain that his desire to find Spock was more on principle now? —when Sulu’s voice cracked over the speaker. “Er…Sir? Commander Spock is…not _on_ the ship, sir.”

His eyes drew sharply to the intercom as though Kirk could see Sulu’s face through it and intimidate him into telling the truth. “What do you mean, ‘ _not on the ship’?_ Have there been any unauthorized shuttle launches?”

“That was the first thing I checked, sir.”

“Unauthorized transports?”

“Negative, sir. There have been no unauthorized functions of any kind. Ship’s log places the Commander’s last known location in the computer library facility.”

The last place Kirk knew him to be…

He glanced up at Mailak, who looked just as shocked as Kirk was (so far as he could tell). The High Priest leaned over to the Haijinn on his left and spoke quickly to them in sharp tones. They spoke so fast that the Universal Translator couldn’t catch any of it.

_Convenient_ , Kirk found himself thinking, but quickly reigned in any suspicious lines of thought until he had more information.

Mailak stretched his neck to the ceiling and pressed his hands into the base of his throat, one folded over the other. A low humming filled the room.

“Captain, what—”

“Just a moment, Sulu,” Kirk ordered, watching the High Priest with rapt attention.

A heartbeat later, Mailak resumed his normal posture, although the humming hadn’t completely left the small space. Kirk thought he could still feel the ghost of rumbling echoing on his skin.

“Eimmeel is still where your crewman says, Captain,” Mailak said. “She has not moved for much of the duration of our visit.”

Kirk’s eyebrow raised. “And…Spock?”

“Him, I cannot find. He is not a part of the _Oiim_ ,” the High Priest replied, rocking his head forwards and back.

Understandable, but worth a try.

“If you do not mind the continued delay, Your Excellency,” Kirk said, choosing his words carefully, “I would very much like to find my missing First Officer.”

Mailak’s head swayed. “Of course, Captain. The Haijinn will assist you in any way we can.”

Kirk rose from his seat in a fluid motion when he heard Sulu again. “Orders, Captain? Shall I send a security team?”

He had almost forgotten the intercom was still on. It was strangely thoughtless of him.

“No need,” _yet,_ Kirk added mentally. “Maintain orbit and communication with the planet. We will speak to Her Emminence, the Southern Priest. I’m sure she will know what happened to Commander Spock and this will all be sorted in short order. Kirk out.”

And if not, Kirk would lock down the ship, and report the Haijjin’s malicious intent upon the _Enterprise_ , and let _them_ deal with the fallout of it.

* * *

While the library computer could be accessed from nearly any terminal on the _Enterpise_ , they still maintained a specific room for those crewman who wished to research outside of their quarters or the usual terminals located at every work station. The room was lined on three walls by data banks with glowing lights, while the last wall opened to the exterior hull, allowing a spectacular view of the planet in orbit down below, the yellow pinprick of the system’s sun in the distance, and the spattering of far distant stars in inky space. It was a semi dim room, opting for personal lamps at the worktables instead of overhead lighting, to suit each individual’s need.

There was only a single occupant in the room when Kirk stepped over the threshold. Seated at one of these worktables, her personal light switched on, illuminating a scattering of colorful isolinear chips all around her, was another splendidly robed Haijinn.

The Southern Priest, Kirk assumed, was larger than all her male counterparts. Her skin was lighter and more wrinkled than Mailak’s and Kirk couldn’t tell if that was age or merely a variation in sex, because he realized, upon seeing her alone, she was the _only_ female Haijinn to have come aboard.

Maybe not anything worth noting, but Kirk noted the discrepancy all the same.

Mailak brushed past Kirk and approached Eimmeel in the Haijinn version of a huff. He was already clicking before he had made it halfway to her. “What is the meaning of this, Eimmeel? What are you still doing here? You and Commander Spock were supposed to have been at the meeting place already!”

Eimmeel’s long furrowed neck raised from her terminal, and she swung her orange gaze upon her intruders, although she appeared to look through them as if she didn’t quite see them.

Kirk strode forward as well, his eyes searching for any sign of the Vulcan among the tables or data banks. The fact that he found nothing churned unease heavy in his stomach.

She blinked and then spoke in a much higher and clearer voice than Kirk had expected given all her wrinkles. She said, “Has it been a ‘Standard Hour’ already? Time for these outsiders flows so quickly. How do they _ever_ have time to write all these stories?”

“Your Eminence,” Kirk began, fighting to keep his voice even, “where is First Officer Spock? I…must speak with him.”

He couldn’t help continuing to let his eyes rove around, trying to probe the shadows for any sign of Spock. Kirk felt his heart race as panic began to grip his chest. The ship thinks he isn’t here, and if no one left on a shuttle or was transported, that could only mean—

Kirk didn’t dare finish his thought.

The Southern Priest turned her gaze on Kirk as if she had only just realized he was there, then her neck swung around in several directions. Like a bird looking at something past their beak. “He was only just here…” she muttered. “Where could he have gotten off to?” Then she swung her face back to Kirk and said something that chilled him to his bones: “You had better not let anyone else come inside, Captain. And mind where you put your feet. Until we find him.”

Mind his…feet…?

Mailak placed his hands at his throat again and rocked his entire body back and forth. “ _Oiim al’mak teek. What_ have you done _now_ , Eimmeel?”

Ice froze in Kirk’s veins as he looked around him. His eyes began scanning the floor now. His hands curled into fists. But he could not afford to lose his temper. He could not afford to jeopardize the mission or his duty as Captain but _oh, the things he wished he could do about now!_

And Spock! What in the hell had this woman done to Spock?

Kirk took tentative steps forward, now almost too scared to move, as Mailak uttered a long series of high pitched clicks and words that were too fast for his Universal Translator to decipher. This time, Kirk didn’t care.

He bent forward and peered beneath the nearest table.

Oh, god, Kirk didn’t even know what he was _looking_ for! A body? Or something worse?

_"Ribbit!"_

His head snapped up. Mailak fell silent.

That couldn’t have been a…

_"GrrrIBBIT!"_

Kirk leaped to his feet and followed the bellowing sounds of _a frog_ —of all the things on his ship!

“RrriBBIT, ribbit, grrrrRIBBET!”

Close to the window, Kirk found it: a mottled green and brown bullfrog the size of his hands and… with dark, knowledgeable eyes…

“Ribbit!” the frog’s throat expanded to reveal brilliant green skin as it…ribbit-ed at Kirk.

Open-mouthed, he looked back at the Haijinn priests.

Eimmeel waved a hand and emitted her gleeful high-pitched whine. “Ah! There he is!”

Kirk looked back down at…Spock, the bullfrog, who ribbit-ed again, indolently.

* * *

“Now, with all _due respect, Your Eminence,”_ Kirk really had to _focus_ in order to remember that he needed to attach the Southern Priest’s diplomatic title when he spoke to her, especially when all he wanted to do was rage, “I do not think I am being _particularly unreasonable_ with my request to restore my first officer to his proper _species,_ however, I _am_ starting to think that _you_ are being purposefully _unhelpful_.” Without thinking, Kirk waved Spock the Frog around as he spoke, his little limbs rather comically swinging through the air.

“ _Ribbit_ ,” croaked Spock the Frog dolefully, punctuating Kirk’s final word with a poignant sense of irony.

With Mailak’s help, Kirk had been able to wrestle Eimmeel from the library computer room, though not without her grabbing a handful of isolinear chips as she left. Not knowing what else to do, Kirk had scooped Spock the Frog up in his hands and comm-ed Bones to come straight away the second they had made it back to Briefing Room Two.

The Southern Priest blinked her large pupil-less orange eyes at him. “I’m sorry, Captain, but I cannot. I cannot disrupt the _oiimaige_ from its intent once it has been woven.”

The High Priest made several sharp, agitated movements in his chair beside her. He asked her, “Why would you do this to another being _at all,_ Eimmeel? We were their guests! The Federation has only just _arrived—_ ”

“You did not read their stories, Your Excellency. I thought it was a gift. I did not think it would be so difficult for them to change him back themselves!”

Kirk’s brow furrowed and he bit his lip to keep from screaming out of sheer frustration. “Our people are not like yours,” he said to her when he had more control. “We can’t just… wish for something to happen and then it happens! Where did you get the impression that we could restore Mr. Spock by ourselves?”

Back and forth went the Southern Priest’s head. “From all your wonderful stories, of course!”

“They’re _fairy tales!”_ Kirk ground out from behind his clenched teeth.

“Ribbit.”

Ever with the best timing, the door slid open and Bones strode into the room with a medical kit and a tricorder slung over his shoulder.

“Now, Jim, I’m not sure what all the fuss was about, but you sounded nothing short of hysterical over the—” His eyes fell on the frog still clenched in Kirk’s hand. “Funny. I didn’t think they made those on other planets. Are we having a grade-school dissection, then?”

Kirk clutched Spock the Frog to his chest and held him away from Bones reflexively. “I should _hope not._ Doctor, this…this… frog is Spock. They… Her Eminence, the Southern Priest, has turned Spock into a _frog!”_

Bones raised his eyebrow and glanced over at the fretting High Priest, speaking to his counterpart in low tones. “Why in the world would Her Eminence do that?”

“ _Good question._ ” Kirk held Spock out to Bones. “Just _take him_ and look after him until we can figure this out.”

Wrinkling his nose some, Bones took the wand from his tricorder and reached for Spock with his free hand, and began scanning him. “Seems fine, Jim," he announced. "Perfectly healthy.”

“Perfectly healthy,” Kirk echoed with a shake of his head. “For a Vulcan or a bullfrog?”

“One and the same now, I think,” Bone replied, holding Spock up with a smile as he replaced his wand.

“Just…take care of him. And try not to seem too happy about it. And, uh, don’t let him…dry…out…” Kirk shrugged and went to wipe his face with his hand—before he remembered it was covered in frog mucus. He wiped them on the front of his pants instead.

“Don’t you worry, Jim. I think I’ve got a nice little terrarium with plenty of water to swim in and some pond scum to eat. I'll keep him away fro the flies. That'll just give him indigestion.”

“Bones…”

“You’ll figure it out, Jim,” his friend told him in a low, soothing voice, clapping him on the shoulder. “You always do.”

“Ribbit,” Spock agreed.

Grinning, Bones held Spock the Frog up to their faces. “Do it for him, will you?”

Kirk shook his head. “Won’t you _try_ to treat him with a little respect?”

“’Course! Wouldn’t dream of doing anything less.” Bones then turned to their guests and bowed to each in turn. “Your Excellency. Your Eminence.”

The Haijinns looked up at Bones and clicked distractedly.

“Now, one more time—” Kirk began with a sigh as soon as the doors had hissed closed behind Bones.

Mailak stood. He looked, for the first time, deflated, like a tiny creature wearing too many clothes that didn’t fit him. “Captain,” he crooned, “while regrettable, it is as Eimmeel has said. There is nothing we can do to undo the _oiimaige_ once its intent has been sealed by the _Oiim_. I am sorry.”

Kirk waved him away and leaned forward onto the table, not yet ready to believe what he was saying. “There were some words that aren’t translating. I don’t want to misunderstand. Can you explain—”

“When my people create something, we must define certain…parameters around our creations. A set of rules that can cause our will to exist in the physical plane. Once something has been created within the confines that we set, it cannot simply be undone unless the creator has made specific rules to do so. We cannot help your first officer. Our interference was not woven into the fabric of the reality of his transformation. I am sorry, Captain.” And he did look sorry, for whatever that was worth.

Which was very little to Kirk in this particular moment.

He tapped his finger on the table.

They couldn’t change Spock back because of some law of physics around their powers and how they connected to it, that much he understood. He hated to hear it, but he refused to believe there weren’t _other_ avenues to de-frog Spock.

_Someone_ had to have the technology or the ability. Kirk just had to find them.

“I can’t very well have an amphibious first officer,” Kirk sighed. “And what do you think I should tell his family? There has _got_ to be another way and… _you_ are the only ones that can help me find it. Please. No one else in the galaxy will know your _Oiim_ the way that you do.”

The Southern Priest bobbed forward and chittered excitedly. “But I _did_ factor in the parameters to change him back, Captain,” the translator recited her words through its speakers.

Kirk hardly dared to hope. “Great. How?”

“I was inspired by all your stories!”

“Our…fairy tales. Yes, you’ve said that. But, how does that help Spock?”

“You have to change him back like in the story!”

Dread trickled into Kirk’s chest and made it difficult to breathe. Which story? There were thousands—no, millions—of possibilities. He was already calculating how long it might take for him to search the computer terminal where the Southern Priest had sat and attempt to decipher _which_ story had inspired her.

He didn’t need Spock’s computer-like brain to know that would take too long.

“Forgive me, but, you’ll have to be more specific,” he said hoarsely.

Eimmeel turned sharply to the pile of isolinear chips beside her and picked through them until she produced a blue one. Kirk took the proffered chip, and glancing at her, slid it into the slot beneath the table.

An image appeared on all the triangular screens. It was the title page of a very old and well-worn Earth book. An illustration of a violently green frog gazed demurely at them from a lilypad. The gilded golden lettering over the cover read: _The Frog Prince._

Kirk blinked. He really had no idea what to say.

But Eimmeel rocked back and forth with obvious excitement. “A gift!” she squealed. “So many of your stories are centered on true love. I asked Commander Spock if he had ever known it and he replied that his kind do not love. I felt so sorry for him. The stories all made it sound so beautiful and fulfilling. I thought, that if he became the frog in the story, then he could find his true love and become whole! True love's kiss will turn him back!”

So many thoughts rushed through his mind but Kirk was stunned into silence. True love’s kiss? _For Spock?_

Oh, god…

Kirk was going to have to inform Sarek that his son would be a frog forever.

* * *

After profuse apologies on both sides and a joint promise to reconvene to discuss trade relations at a later time, Kirk had seen all the Haijiin transported off the _Enterprise—_ good riddance—and half-sprinted to sickbay.

He was out of breath with a small stitch in his side when the doors slid open to reveal rows and rows of unoccupied biobeds beneath bright overhead lights. Kirk nodded at Nurse Chapel and continued straight into Bones’ office in the center of the room.

“How is he?” Kirk asked as soon as he entered.

His friend looked up from his PADD and glanced back at a glass terrarium on the wall behind him. Within sat Spock the Frog, half-submerged in water, half sitting on a raised flat stone. He croaked, his throat expanding briefly… and then licked his left eye with his long pink tongue.

Kirk sighed.

“Never did understand a single word he said, Jim, but we do always have a mighty fine time,” Bones said with a smile.

Kirk stared blankly down at the doctor. “Glad you’re so enjoying yourself,” he said dryly.

“It’s not so ter- _ribbit-_ able.”

“Leonard, _please!”_ Kirk cried, throwing himself into the chair sitting across from Bones’ desk. He propped his elbows on his knees and let his head fall into his hands.

“Oh, come on, Jim. I’ve spent the last _hour_ thinking up a whole plethora of frog puns!”

“I _don’t_ want to hear them.”

“Well,” his friend replied, chewing on the inside of his lip as he turned his attention back to his PADD, “your loss, then.”

“What am I going to do?”

“They say anything about how to turn him back?”

“Apparently, it’s all linked to that ancient story, _The Frog Prince._ They said ‘true love’s kiss’ would turn Spock back into a Vulcan.”

Bones looked up at him, his eyebrow arched. “That so…?” he murmured thoughtfully.

“I know!” Kirk cried. Unable to contain his restless energy anymore, he leaped from the chair and started pacing the small transparent aluminum-enclosed room. “Does such a thing even exist for a Vulcan? True love doesn’t even really exist for Humans, and we’re the idiots who made the damn thing up!”

“You need to take a deep breath, Jim,” Bones sighed, laying his PADD aside and interlacing his fingers over his stomach as he leaned back in his chair. “Why don’t you think about it logically?”

“Ribbit!”

Bones grinned and stuck his thumb out over his shoulder. “See? Spock agrees with me.”

Kirk thought Bones was taking the entire thing too lightly— making jokes at Spock’s expense, sticking him in a terrarium, and now trying to tell him to relax. He was about _this close_ to exploding on his friend.

“Is there anything you can do?” Kirk asked instead. “Anything in some medical file or—”

“That’ll undo magic? No. Can’t say that I’ve found anything like that.”

“It’s _not magic, Leonard, it’s—”_

“I know what it is, Jim,” Bones raised his voice over Kirk’s and the tone surprised him out of pacing. “It’s far too advanced for anything we have in the Starfleet medical database and it’s like nothing that I’ve ever heard of, besides in tales about evil witches. What do you expect me to do? I can’t turn a frog into a Vulcan through medical science—it’s simply not possible! The only option we have is to follow their directions. If we need ‘true love’s kiss,’ then that’s what we need. You need to think _logically_ and figure out what you should do next.”

But Kirk was flummoxed. He had no idea what to do next. Spock never loved anyone. ‘True love’ wasn’t something that he thought any Vulcan would be familiar with.

Unless the definition of ‘true love’ could be broadened somehow…

Bones broke Kirk’s train of thought by speaking softly but with determination. “ _Think_ , Jim. Think back to all of Spock’s past actions. I think you’ll find his ‘true love’ there.” He leaned forward, a partial smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “I think _you’ll_ know what you have to do…”

Kirk narrowed his eyes at his friend. “You’ve already got an idea, haven’t you? Well, out with it, then.”

Shrugging, Bones leaned back into his chair and picked up his PADD again. “Just a theory, really. I’d rather you come to the same conclusion yourself. If I tell you, well, then that’s just too easy. After all, the frog prince had to convince his princess to kiss him, didn’t he?”

“Ribbit!”

“You’re incorrigible,” Kirk told him, rapping his knuckles on Bones’ desk. He decided not to call his friend’s bluff because Kirk didn’t need his help. Kirk already had his own idea of what he needed to do. He just hoped that it would work.

* * *

Nerves bunched up in Kirk’s stomach long before the lovely face of a grey-haired Human woman appeared on the screen on his personal communications terminal in his Captain’s Quarters. A thousand explanations had run through his mind, but in the end, he’d decided that saying as little as possible would probably be the best course of action. After all, no mother wanted to hear that their only son had been cursed into a frog.

“Captain Kirk,” Amanda Greyson greeted with a bright smile. “This is a most unusual but welcome surprise.”

Kirk smiled back, but it only went skin deep. “Hello again, Lady Ambassador. I hope I did not disturb you.”

“Oh, no. It’s quite alright, Captain,” she replied with a wave of her dainty hand. “The Ambassador is resting and I was happy to take your call in his stead. Tell me, how is Spock?”

Kirk’s gut wrenched painfully. “Doing well,” he lied. “Busy…with the First Contact we are delegating.”

“How just like him, to be so busy working and miss his mother’s call. He is so like his father.” Her eyes grew unfocused and faraway. Any other time, Kirk might have asked after her. He was quite smitten with Spock’s mother and liked to think the two of them got along quite well.

But he was here for business, not pleasure.

“Lady Ambassador,” Kirk began, tapping his fingers against his chin. He’d rehearsed his question several times over before even making the subspace communication to Vulcan, but that didn’t stop him from being anxious about the questions Amanda might ask back. “I was wondering if you had a way that you could put me in contact with…with T’Pring.”

Even over the video, Kirk could tell that she started. “Spock’s betrothed? Whatever for?”

And here it was. Remember: keep it simple! “I…believe that she might have some…invaluable insight on our current mission.”

Amanda tilted her head, regarding him, and Kirk hoped she wouldn’t ask any more questions. “Doesn’t Starfleet have its own xenoscientists, Captain?” she asked in a calculating voice.

“We do,” he responded too quickly. “However, this race… they have strong telepathic and telekinetic abilities.” An idea occurred to him. “Spock had recommended I attempt to contact her about them. He would have done it himself but…after what happened…he didn’t think she would be as responsive to his call as to mine.”

“So why call me and not ask my son for her communication code?”

Kirk shrugged and a hysterical laugh escaped his lips despite his best effort to contain it. “I just didn’t want to bother him. Besides, I didn’t think about it until it was too late.” Hardly a good excuse, but it might just do the job. “Please,” he continued quickly, leaning forward and batting his eyes, “will you help me?”

She was silent a few moments more, with a crease between her eyes and then she sighed. “I can connect you to her, but I’ll make no promises about her responsiveness.”

“Wonderful!” Kirk released the breath he had been holding. Relief blossomed in his chest as he smiled. “I greatly appreciate it, Lady Ambassador.”

“Of course, Captain,” Amanda replied offhandedly as she pressed a series of buttons Kirk couldn’t see. “But, James?”

“Yes?”

Her eyes flashed. “I do hope you will tell me the truth the next time you call for a favor.”

“I—” he choked.

But Amanda had transferred his video. Only a series of Vulcan words remained in her place.

* * *

T’Pring had not answered. Kirk left her a message detailing their predicament as best as he could, but he didn’t really believe that she would return his communication. Something in his heart told him she wouldn’t, anyway.

He rubbed his face in his hands and tried to think of another logical thing to do.

How to find Spock’s ‘true love’s kiss’ and change him back? There was nothing he could think of because Spock didn’t actually _love_ anybody. It wasn’t in his nature! He had said so himself over and over again.

Briefly, Kirk considered calling Amanda back in the hopes that a mother’s love would be considered ‘true’ enough to do the trick, but he immediately dismissed it. Not only did the original story not use such a loophole, but it would never matter how much Amanda loved Spock. That wasn’t how he remembered the story going.

_Spock_ had to love the person who kissed him, in order to break the spell.

So who in this wide, wide Universe did _Spock_ love?

Kirk dropped his hands to his desk and shook his head. He was about ready to hang up a sign on the sickbay doors and make it a free for all. Any woman willing! Come,line up to kiss a frog!

With a deep sigh, he decided to slouch his way back to sickbay. Maybe he could convince Bones to tell him his secret theory.

* * *

“Back again, I see,” Bones greeted the second Kirk was through his door. He glanced up from the biobed whose control panel was in pieces in front of him. When Kirk threw him a questioning look, Bones answered, “Just some software updates. Routine things, you know. You find what you were looking for?”

Kirk narrowed his eyes as he stepped closer, about to give the other man a piece of his mind, but he was interrupted by Uhura’s voice coming from the intercom.

“Lieutenant Uhura to Captain Kirk. Incoming subspace message from Vulcan, sir. Priority One.”

Grinning, Kirk grasped Bones’ arms and shook him gently. He didn’t bother explaining, despite Bones’ look of confusion. He bounded to the intercom on the sickbay wall and smashed the button.

“Go ahead and patch it into Doctor McCoy’s office. I’ll take it there.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Jim! You can’t just go and commandeer a man’s computer console—”

“Ah, yes I can,” Kirk sang, wagging his finger at Bones as he strode away and into his office, “because I’m the captain.”

He sat at the terminal, nervously ran his hand through his hair, carefully wiped the smile from his lips, and punched the accept button on the side of the screen.

T’Pring, as regal and unaffected as he remembered her to be, appeared on the monitor.

From somewhere behind him, he thought he heard Bones swear.

Kirk held up his hand in a Vulcan salute and T’Pring returned it. Though, somewhat begrudgingly, he noted.

“Thank you for answering my communication, T’Pring. I hope you are well?”

If possible, the hard line of her mouth deepened. “Save me the Human frivolities, Captain. I am uncertain that I understood your request. I require more clarification from you.”

“Well, you see, Spock is—”

“A Terran amphibian.”

“Er. Yes. And we need for you to—”

“I do not understand what the merits of ‘kissing’ would be.”

Kirk gulped. Somehow, he hadn’t anticipated T’Pring to be so… uncooperative. Thinking back to the way she acted on Vulcan, it was a wonder that he ever thought this would work.

“Its _merit_ is that ‘kissing’ Spock in his present state appears to be the only way to turn him back into his regular self. I said that to you already in my message,” he said, staring hard at the screen, willing her to understand.

“And why should _I_ kiss him?”

He had gone over this too, but Kirk drew a long breath and willed himself to remain calm and not let the hysteria that threatened to engulf him edge into his voice. “You…were betrothed to him. Surely there is some residual—” Not 'feelings', because she was Vulcan and Kirk didn’t want to offend his only hope of getting Spock back. Kirk wracked his brain for a different word. “—affection, that stems from that connection. Enough, to turn him back into himself.”

T’Pring raised a lovely slanted eyebrow and ‘harumf’ed so sharply that Kirk could have almost mistaken it for a laugh. “There was hardly affection when we saw each other last, and there certainly is none now. I am not the savior you seek, Captain Kirk.”

Kirk couldn’t help it. His face fell. His shoulders caved forward into his chest.

“Frankly, I am astounded that you contacted me at all—” She looked away for a brief moment, collecting herself. “—given your _display_ in the ancestral sands.”

His eyebrows knit. What was that supposed to mean?

Behind him, Kirk heard Bones groan.

“I…” Kirk blinked, shook his head, and tried again, “I-I-I don’t believe I understand your meaning, T’Pring.”

She scowled. “It is not for me to say,” she responded roughly. “I cannot help you in this.”

A second later, her display darkened.

“Sir,” came Uhura’s voice, “I’ve lost the communication to Vulcan. Should I attempt to re-establish—”

“No, Lieutenant,” Kirk sighed. “Thank you.”

That was it. There were no more options. There was nothing else that Kirk could think of to help Spock. This was it! The end!

And now Spock would remain a frog for the rest of his life.

_Would he have a frog lifespan or a Vulcan lifespan?_

Kirk didn’t want to think about it—his friend trapped in a tiny frog body for another hundred years… What kind of life would that be?

“Are you finished making a damn fool of yourself?” Bones exclaimed so suddenly that Kirk jumped in his seat.

He turned to look up at his friend, confused. “What?”

“All this nonsense about affection—T’Pring was right! She can’t help you! I didn’t think you’d be fool enough to call her, of all people.”

Kirk’s mouth worked but no sound came out in the face of Bones’ icy stare. “W-well, now, see here, Bones—”

“ _No, you see here!_ I tried leading you to the obvious answer. I tried tellin’ ya to _think back_ to Spock’s past actions and you thought of _T’Pring?_ Lord in high heaven, have mercy. You’re more hopeless than I thought!”

Bones stomped past Kirk to Spock’s terrarium. He reached in and unceremoniously plucked Spock from his large, flat stone with a soft squelch then brought him back to Kirk. He watched Bones with his mouth open as his friend adjusted his grip and then held Spock the Frog out to him.

“ _Pucker up.”_

“Are you _out of your mind, Leonard McCoy?!”_

_“Kiss. The DAMN. Frog. Jim.”_

He shook his head. Bones was crazy. This was his big theory? It was never going to work!

Softly, Spock croaked, and Kirk looked at him longingly. If only it could have been true, but Spock didn’t love him. They were friends, maybe. A team, definitely. There was no one else in the universe that Kirk trusted more, but…

No, it was impossible.

He looked up straight into Bones’ eyes. “You’re crazy.”

“Am I?” Bones replied softly. “Who did he trust with his greatest secret when he was starting to go through that Pon Farr? Who helped you identify your vicious half from your good half, and who brought the two of you together?”

Kirk shook his head.

“Who insisted you were innocent, even when Commodore Stone had all the evidence against you? Who pushed you out of the way and took those poisonous flower darts for you, for christ’s sake?”

“Yes, you’ve made your point, Bones…”

But he didn’t stop. “What did you say Spock told you when that infection from Psi 2000 ravaged the ship?”

“Ribbit.”

Kirk shook his head, but he remembered the words as plainly as if they were yesterday. “When I feel friendship for you, I…I’m ashamed.”

“ _Yes, Jim._ Now, what do you think the only logical reason for a Vulcan to feel something like shame could be?”

“It’s not going to work,” Kirk sighed, but something new rose sharply in his chest. A question he hardly dared to dwell on.

But what if _it did?_

“So? Will you kiss the frog now? Or do you want to take him out to dinner first?”

He shook his head again, but Kirk held out his hands. Bones carefully placed Spock in them and took several steps back. He looked excited. Kirk glanced up at him, still doubtful.

But _what if?_

His heart raced.

What did kissing a frog feel like, anyway? Would kissing Spock’s wet cheek be enough?

Spock adjusted his delicate legs and nestled snugly into the palms of Kirk’s hands. “Ribbit,” he croaked quietly.

Kirk lifted Spock up to his eye level. He could almost believe the Vulcan had retained all his intelligence, and he knew what was about to happen. His gaze looked soulful and longing. It was much the same sort of expression that Kirk had caught a time or two on the bridge. Always when Spock thought he was too busy to notice.

But he _had_ noticed, Kirk had just convinced himself that it was nothing.

True love’s kiss…

Would Spock really change back? For him?

“Ribbit.” Get on with it, he seemed to say. It is illogical to waiver when there are no other avenues open to you.

Kirk took a steadying breath through his nose—

—and raised Spock’s little frog lips to his own.

Heat tingled and blossomed between them. If the sun could be contained within a being, then Kirk thought that this was what that might have felt like. Kirk couldn’t pull away, even if he had wanted to.

The air crackled and swirled around them. The frog he had known to be in his hands grew larger and larger, expanding until a heavy weight settled comfortably in his lap, his hands laying on either side of it.

Kirk couldn’t hear anything outside of the roaring in his blood. He was overwhelmed by the sensation in his lips, in the pressure there, and in the soft caress of a nose against his cheek.

Spock pulled away, but Kirk didn’t want to open his eyes.

The weight in his lap, the mass in his arms… it had to have worked… but he was terrified that if he opened his eyes, the spell would be broken.

_This_ spell, the spell of the true love that Kirk had kept himself from dreaming of.

“Captain,” Spock’s deep voice reverberated through his body from where they touched. Almost a purr.

Kirk allowed his eyes to flutter open and he found exactly what he’d always wanted: Spock, close to his face, his hands resting on Kirk’s chest, with his head tilted and the forbidden ghost of a smile on the edge of his lips.

Kirk wanted very badly, very suddenly, to kiss him again.

Bones grunted and had an obnoxious coughing fit, drawing both of their attentions.

“Now, we are all very glad that Spock is Spock again, and I will tell you that I told you for the rest of your life, but if you two are going to keep canoodling like that, you need to find a _different_ room to do it in.”

Spock shook his head. “Doctor, after my dubious treatment at your hands, I believe that ‘you owe me.’”

Bones spluttered. “Dubious!? I didn’t feed you flies, did I? Get out of my office before I make you wish you were still a frog!”


End file.
